


Never In Question

by jujubiest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dad!Dean, Ficlet, Grief/Mourning, M/M, One Shot, Post-Season/Series 12, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2019-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21748564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jujubiest/pseuds/jujubiest
Summary: Jack, like most kids, has a lot of questions. Dean doesn't usually mind, but it turns out some questions are harder to answer than others.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester
Comments: 5
Kudos: 89





	Never In Question

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this during the hiatus between seasons 12 and 13, when I thought Dean was going to show some development and be a far better person toward Jack than he actually was in canon.
> 
> Warning for mentions of a major character death and some spoilers for seasons 12 and 13 of Supernatural.

"Dean," Jack says, "You were close to my father?"

It’s a day like any other in the realm of their new normal: Sam is in the bunker library reading, taking a well-deserved break after a hard hunt. Dean is in the kitchen, experimenting with a new recipe. And Jack is sitting on one of the counters, out of the way but watching attentively. They talk like this often. Jack, however he may look, is still incredibly young. And like every child, he has an endless supply of questions. Usually that’s fine, but this one...

Dean swallows around the feeling like a knife in his throat, breathes through the iron bands constricting his chest.

"Yeah," he says. "I guess we were pretty close. He...was my best friend.” The bowl in front of him goes a little blurry. He blinks the sheen of tears away. "He used to say we had this...’profound bond.'"

Jack pulls his legs up from where they’re dangling nearly to the floor and sits cross legged, making himself seem smaller. He does that, Dean has noticed, when he senses he’s done something wrong. Dean shoots him a reassuring smile to let him know he hasn’t. The kid returns the smile, only a little hesitant.

"Can...can you tell me about him?" Jack asks after a moment. He sounds shy, still unsure if this is an okay topic. "How did you meet?"

Dean almost--almost--laughs. It comes out a dry chuckle, barely more than a mirthful huff of breath. He hasn’t really laughed since...since the day Jack was born.

But that isn’t Jack’s fault. So Dean tells him.

"The first time I met your dad, kid...he scared the hell outta me. Kinda like you did," he gives Jack an affectionate smile. "Came busting into my life, all sparks and wings. Told me that good things happen, which I didn’t believe at the time. Told me--not in so many words, but I got the message--that I deserved to be saved."

"What did you do?"

Dean does actually muster a laugh then, but it's small, and it hurts.

"I stabbed him in the chest with a demon-killing knife."

Jack shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

"Is this a normal human greeting?” He knows it isn’t, but Dean appreciates the joke all the same.

"I didn't know he was an angel. He was the first one I ever met. And the best...no offense, kid."

Jack waves this off.

"I’m only half angel. I can be the best nephilim.” He considers Dean for a moment, weighing whether to say the next thing he’s thinking. “He talked about you. Before I was born, when he was helping my mother. He talked about you all the time. He tried to sing me a lullaby once, but said you would have done better. I know you meant a lot to him.”

Dean doesn't know how to respond to that, so he doesn't. They fall into a silence that's not quite comfortable, another question hanging heavy in the air between them.

Dean thinks of Cas. Of wide, sad blue eyes, of shoulders bowed under the weight of so much guilt and responsibility...of three words confessed in a dying moment, unrequited.

He breathes through the iron bands. Swallows the knife. He’s used to this pain, knows how to keep living through it. Breathe. Swallow. Blink. Repeat.

When he speaks, his voice is barely above a whisper.

"Cas was...he was...special. Not perfect. He made a lotta mistakes. But he...he tried. So damn hard. He tried harder than I've ever see anyone try. And he loved...everyone. Just because. He wasn't perfect, but he was...good." His voice catches on invisible barbs.

"You loved him," Jack says, not a question. And Dean falls into it, nothing to deny, because it was never really a question, was it? 

"Yeah," he croaks out, voice rough with unvented grief. If he lets himself start, he might never stop. "Yeah, I did.”


End file.
